The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 78

 78 THE CRISIS CALL

Morning light slipped through the thin white curtains of Eve’s old apartment, painting golden lines across the small wooden table where breakfast was already set. The smell of butter, garlic and freshly-brewed coffee filled the air.

Camila was humming softly, arranging cutlery while Mitre flipped a skillet of eggs with exaggerated concentration. It felt simple, domestic, peaceful in a way Ryan had never truly experienced before.

Eve laughed as Camila fussed over her plate, piling on fruit and toast like she was feeding a child.

“Dios mío, hija,” Camila scolded affectionately, “you’re eating for two. Don’t argue with me.”

Ryan smiled faintly, sipping his coffee in silence. For once, he didn’t feel like the heir of an empire or the son of scandal. Sitting here, watching his wife tease her adoptive parents, he felt like a man, just a man, with a woman he had nearly lost and a life he might still fix.

Mitre noticed his quietness.

“You’re awfully calm this morning,” he observed.

Ryan looked up, eyes steady. “There’s no point panicking over things I can’t change before breakfast.”

Eve glanced at him, recognising the effort in his tone. He was masking something. The night before, after the call from his lawyer, he had gone still, too still, and said nothing more about it. She didn’t push. She’d learned that with Ryan, patience was sometimes the only way to reach him,

After breakfast, the Rodrigos opened the restaurant for the lunch crowd. Westwood seemed to wake up all at once, cars honking outside, street vendors shouting, sunlight bouncing off glass. Eve tied her apron, her movements automatic, familiar. The bell above the restaurant door jingled again and again until the place was packed.

Ryan, sleeves rolled up, helped carry trays and refill glasses. It caused a small stir among the patrons: women whispered behind menus, giggling at the sight of the tall, striking man who didn’t seem to belong behind a counter. Camila caught him passing and couldn’t resist teasing.

“Corazón, I think half the women in Westwood will faint if you keep serving water like that.”

Ryan laughed quietly. “Let them faint. At least business will be good.”

Eve turned, mock-annoyed. “Ignore her, Ryan. She flirts with everyone.”

Camila gasped dramatically. “Ay, hija, don’t be jealous! You married the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, Dios mío, I’d flirt with a statue if it looked like him.”

Laughter rippled through the kitchen. Even Mitre was grinning as he chopped vegetables. “It’s true, though,” he said, gesturing with his knife. “If he wasn’t your husband, we’d have offered him a job in the kitchen just to keep the women coming in.”

Eve rolled her eyes but her heart was light. The sight of Ryan laughing freely, it was new. The lines of tension that usually framed his eyes had softened. He even looked younger.

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